Challenging the Nurse's Rules. Janice Lynn
how she was going to manage to begin with, but then you made her go even longer despite the fact she was slowing down the entire procession.”
He really hadn’t picked a good time to zone out with thoughts about Joni and leave the cake walkers going round and round. But the smile on Mrs Lehew’s face said if she’d minded in the slightest, she no longer did.
“Maybe since she won a cake she’ll sit out the remaining walks because if not,” Joni mused, “we’re going to have to find a designated walker for her.”
“Or a wheelchair.”
The ecstatic obese woman with severe chronic obstructive pulmonary disease excitedly took Joni’s hand. “Oh, thank you. Thank you. I can’t believe this. I never win.”
“Well, you did tonight. Congratulations. Here’s your cake, Mrs. Lehew.” She handed the woman a chocolate-frosted cake from the long table still loaded with donated goodies.
“You know,” Grant mused, scratching his chin with a feigned thoughtful look, “it’s a good thing I’m her pulmonologist and not her endocrinologist or I’d have to protest that cake.”
“Good thing,” Joni agreed, responding to his teasing with a slight lifting of her mouth at the corners. “Then again, maybe she wanted to win the cake for her grandchildren or maybe she just wanted to do the cake walk to support a really good cause.”
“We can tell ourselves that.”
Joni’s lips twitched. “But you’re not buying it?”
“Not after her last hospital admission and seeing how well controlled her sugar was when she didn’t have easy access to snacks and junk food.”
Looking as if she might tackle the elderly woman and wrestle the cake from her, Joni glanced toward Mrs. Lehew.
Sorry he’d mentioned the woman’s uncontrolled diabetes, Grant touched Joni’s hand. “It’s okay. I learned a long time ago that you can’t control what others do to themselves. You can only encourage them to do the right thing and hope they are paying attention.” So maybe saying he’d learned that lesson a long time ago was stretching the truth, but he had learned. Eventually. “If she wants cake, she’s going to have cake regardless of whether or not she wins one here.” He squeezed Joni’s hand, wanting to see her face light up with a smile again, wanting the sense of camaraderie, albeit precarious, they’d shared while doling out cakes to continue. “Besides, that one is for her grandkids.”
Nodding resignedly, Joni gave him what appeared to be an appreciative smile. “Sure it is. If she ends up in the emergency room tonight with a five hundred blood sugar, I’m going to feel as if I put her there.”
“No need for that. Look.” Grant gestured in the direction the woman had headed and Joni’s gaze followed suit. Mrs. Lehew was sitting at a table with three small children clamoring to get a better look at her prize. They were calling her Granny and tugging on her sleeves.
“Oh, you’re good,” she praised with a hint of sarcasm.
“I know.” When Joni’s gaze met his, he winked. “Oh, you meant because of Mrs. Lehew? What? You mean you didn’t believe me?” He tsked. “Shame. Shame.”
But rather than correct him or slap him down, she just gave a resigned sigh and turned back to the cake walkers.
They collected the tickets from the next group in line, then Grant restarted the music and turned to her.
“You’ll find that I am many things, Joni, but you can take what I tell you to the bank.”
“Meaning?”
“Meaning that when I tell you how I’ve thought of little else except kissing you again, that I want to kiss you again, you can believe it’s the truth.”
“I don’t doubt that you want to kiss me again.”
She didn’t sound happy about the prospect, though. Not exactly the reaction he’d hoped for. He wanted her to quit fighting the attraction between them and admit she wanted him too. He wanted whatever had her running scared to fade into the background and for her to embrace the chemistry between them. Still, she wasn’t saying no.
“That confident that you were that good?” he teased.
“No, you are the one who just commented about how good you are, remember?” She shook the basket of numbered cards. “I’m just that confident that you see me as a challenge, and that’s why you’re so determined to pursue me,” she countered. “But I’m not a challenge, Grant. I’m a real person with real feelings. I don’t want to be hurt.”
Grant started to speak, but she leaned over and punched the Pause button, killing the music and effectively drawing all eyes to them. Without another glance his way, she pulled out a card. “Number nineteen.”
Why did Grant keep looking at her as if he wanted to peel off her clothes and take a bite? Joni bit the inside of her lip, wondering if she was going to gnaw a hole right through if she didn’t stay away from a certain doctor. She’d accused him of seeing her as a challenge because that was what her brain had decided was the logical conclusion. Was that why he kept coming back for more of her pushing him away?
No, truth was, she was beginning to think he really liked her. The more she thought about it, the more likable he was, too. For all his cockiness, he was just as likely to say something self-deprecating to make her smile. Why, oh, why, did he have to be so likeable on top of how completely hunky he was? After all, she was only a mortal woman. How was she supposed to resist his allure when everything about him appealed?
She did her best to ignore him for the rest of their cake-walk stint. Not an easy thing when they were working to keep the cake walk going, but she did manage to avoid any more private talk.
A few minutes prior to the end, Vann and Samantha got into the cakewalk line.
“If I don’t win, you are in so-o-o much trouble,” Samantha teased, handing Joni her ticket and casting a questioning gaze toward Grant. She gave Joni two thumbs-ups. Puh-leeze. Even her best friend was matchmaking. Spare her.
Besides, she was irked at Samantha for bailing twice. And for telling Grant no telling what.
Ignoring Samantha’s go-for-it sign, Joni shrugged. “Sorry, sugarplum.” She never used endearments so this got a giggle out of her friend. “But your odds are the same as everyone else’s. One out of twenty-four.”
“I’ll take those odds. Especially since Vann bought our tickets.” Samantha patted his arm, keeping her hand on his biceps. Her friend usually insisted on paying her equal share, so the fact she’d let Vann pay was significant. Vann didn’t look impressed. Actually, he looked irked, too.
Joni shot a curious gaze back and forth between the two, but Samantha just borrowed one from Joni’s book and shrugged.
“Hey, Vann, you expecting special favors, too?” Joni asked, giving her friendliest smile and hoping to ease whatever strain was in the air.
Stepping out of Samantha’s hold, he nodded. “Samantha wants cake, so let her eat cake. Lord forbid, she doesn’t get everything she wants right when she wants it. To hell with the rest of the world.”
Joni forced a laugh at his quip, hoping to ease the tension jetting back and forth between her two dear friends. Unfortunately, Samantha was now glaring at her boyfriend. Surely he hadn’t proposed again tonight? Vann proposals were always followed by a fight, which was usually followed by making up and then another few months of the status quo before they repeated the process all over again. Eventually, Vann was going to tire of Samantha’s refusals. But, for now, apparently he was hopeful enough that he’d change her mind to keep sticking it out. Either that or he liked their make-up ritual.
As far as Joni was concerned, Dr. Vann Winton was the sole good guy left in the world. Then again, he was a cardiologist so maybe he naturally had more heart.
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